


Beauty In A Cage

by Aristathelia



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Prison, Broken Bones, Commander Fjord, M/M, Momma Nott, Nott is such a good friend, Prison Guard Caleb, Prison Guard Fjord, Prisoner Mollymauk, Tags updated with chapters, Violence, everyone is human, instant crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-05-28 15:21:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15052121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aristathelia/pseuds/Aristathelia
Summary: Thirty minutes. Half of an hour until he would be stepping through the heavily warded doors of a maximum security prison. He’d been trained, tested and prepped for the start of this highly dangerous job but unsurprisingly he still didn’t feel ready. How would a person who had never been able to defend themselves from bullies in school be able to control and subdue murderers, serial killers and sexual predators, and somehow manage to keep the terrified tremble out of their voice and hands?





	1. Chapter 1

Caleb had spent the entire hour before the start of his first shift fidgeting and rearranging his uniform. No matter what he did the collar felt scratchy, the shirt tight and the pants loose. Maybe it was the clothes or maybe it was the anxiety, but everything felt uncomfortable and stuffy. 

Thirty minutes. Half of an hour until he would be stepping through the heavily warded doors of a maximum security prison. He’d been trained, tested and prepped for the start of this highly dangerous job but unsurprisingly he still didn’t feel ready. How would a person who had never been able to defend themselves from bullies in school be able to control and subdue murderers, serial killers and sexual predators, and somehow manage to keep the terrified tremble out of their voice and hands? 

He assumed that the job would probably get easier and more instinctive day by day but he was still terrified, counting the seconds down until his descent into literal hell. The clock seemed to speed up, like it was gleefully watching him quiver and waiting for him to break. Each tick sounded like a tap against his coffin.

The only door to the room snapped open and Caleb was dragged from his panic by the appearance of his supervisor. The man was tall, broad shouldered, with a scarred face. His golden eyes flitted rapidly as though assessing the rooms security and and after a long moment of silence his hand went to his hair, shot through with silver, and pushed it back from his face. He pinned Caleb with a sharp look before his face split in a welcoming grin. His teeth were straight and white, charming and a little feral in appearance. 

A large hand breached the space between them and Caleb stood to accept the hand offered, the handshake that followed feeling like it weakened the joint of his shoulder. Caleb felt small next to this man and his hand being crushed by an all encompassing handshake wasn’t helping matters. 

“Mr. Widogast! Good to see you again! How about you come with me and we’ll start all this before you run screaming, okay?” 

“Y-Yes, Sir,” Caleb replied, shaky but polite. The man had a way of being comforting and not at all at the same time and Caleb felt a little dizzy with it. 

His equilibrium stayed skewed all through his tour of the compound and the introductions to the other guards on duty. They didn’t stray into the inmate areas until later on in the day, and by then Caleb was tired and lulled into a false sense of security. He was lagging a little behind, watching almost idly how the inmates seemed to be eyeing him, when he spotted him. The man was so bright Caleb didn’t know how his eye hadn’t been drawn in instantly. Tattoos flowed over his bared skin in twisting and winding patterns, interspersed with flowers, feathers and sprawling iconography. His hair was a deep shade of violet, wavy and pulled up into a messy bun atop his head. The mans attention was firmly fixated on him and Caleb felt himself flush under the scrutiny. Flashing dark eyes seemed to follow him through the open space, a curling lascivious grin making Caleb flush and look straight ahead, focusing instead on the strong shoulders of Mr Fjord. 

Heat was humming through him as they left the common areas and proceeded into the Solitary Confinement cell block. Instant attraction had never really been his kind of thing, especially with him being a relatively closed off person outside of his working life, but that man was a work of art. 

The rest of the day was spent in a thick haze and as Caleb shouldered open his front door, bags of groceries in hand, he realised that he hadn’t had a single complete thought since work. His flat was small, a simple two bedroom affair with a combined living room, kitchen and dining room. He dragged his bags through to the kitchen and left them on the counter before leaning back against the refrigerator and sighing. 

Caleb never thought he would be one of those weirdos people heard about on the news who develop a crush on murderers and serial killers. He’d always scoffed at the idea of lusting after or marrying a convicted felon. After all, why would you even do that to yourself? But he hadn’t been able to let go of the image of the tall, lithe man flashing him a downright predatory smirk as he’d left the room. Somehow the aura of danger and power that had hung on him like a veil, Caleb found, was incredibly attractive, if amazingly scary. 

A movement in the corner of his eye had him jolting in surprise, his head connecting sharply with the fridge door. Nott looked at him curiously before she hip bumped him out of the way and began rummaging through the fridge. Caleb stood back against the counter instead and watched his short friend shove food into her mouth whilst still searching.

Nott was his best friend. Their friendship had started years ago when they met in a juvenile detention center. Caleb had been scared and traumatised. Nott, a young woman of short stature, had taken him under her wing instantly and from there they had become inseparable. Once they were both released they found the flat together and became roommates. 

Caleb huffed to himself in amusement as he watched the tiny woman wiggle in happiness, mouth stuffed full of leftovers and one hand full of cheesy bread. A loud swallow was followed by a sigh of happiness and Nott pushed her long black hair out her face before biting off a chunk of bread. 

“Calef! ‘Ow’d ‘or firs’ ‘ay go?”

He decided not to reprimand her for flashing a lot of chewed food as he smiled faintly and shrugged. “Kind of what I was expecting, it was tiring and scary.” The prettily tattooed man flittered to the forefront of his mind and he pushed it away quickly, jaw tightening with the effort of holding back a blush. “I’m sure I’ll get used to it over time.”

Nott nodded and swallowed another hunk of bread. “You should get some more sleep, Caleb. You barely sleep as it is and working a tiring job will wear you out very quickly.” 

Caleb yawned in reply and grinned at Notts ‘I told you so’ look. Maybe a little more sleep would be a good idea. He was incredibly tired, his mind running circles all day whilst he walked from one end of the compound to the other. He pushed himself off of the counter and swiped the last chunk of bread from Nott’s hand, sinking fingers into her hair as he passed in a quick massage. A playful growl rumbled behind him as he entered his bedroom. 

Books covered every exposed surface, stacked into high towers that occasionally grazed the ceiling. All of the furniture - bed, bookshelves and drawers - were scratched and scuffed, dulled with wear and age. The room looked soft and homey to him, warm and comforting, and after devouring his chunk of bread he dropped heavily onto the only uncovered surface in the room. His bed was a simple queen, sheets a dark grey with floral patterns curling around the sides. Nott had bought them when they had first moved in as a housewarming gift and Caleb had never thought to buy any more. His pillows smelled like lavender, letting him know that Nott had laundered them recently. Caleb smiled as he buried his face into them and closed his eyes. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to carefully read the tags!

Despite Caleb’s initial fear, he found that he accommodated to the job much faster than expected. The days went rather quickly as he moved surprisingly passive inmates between the yard, the common areas and their cells. It had been a month since his first day and he had yet to see even a simple fight break out under his supervision. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe that the reason was an unwavering respect between him and the inmates, but he genuinely had no idea why everything was going so well. 

Everything had been so simple, in fact, that when a riot did kick up he was completely unprepared. He didn’t even see the initial catalyst, his back being turned at the time, but all he knew was suddenly the world was spinning. Someone crashed into his back and sent him sprawling on the floor. He was pinned beneath a strong body, arms pressed to the floor by heavily calloused and scarred hands. His radio crackled, harsh grating voices shouting orders as his body shook. Fear and trepidation chased themselves up and down his spine, making his entire body tremble with adrenaline. He knew while in this position that fighting would do nothing but tire him out and leave him with bruises so he laid still, his eyes darting from one set of ankles to the next, trying to see where the other guards were. 

The weight atop him shifted and knees pressed into his wrists, effectively freeing up his captors hands. Fingers instantly dug into the side of his jaw. Pressing, digging, scratching. They wormed their way down to the tender flesh of his throat and pressed, effectively cutting off Caleb’s air supply. He was coughing, choking, thrashing against his attacker. Panic was like a heavy veil over his face, suffocating and blinding him as his body writhed instinctively. He couldn’t reach his tazer or his radio and just as he was certain he was about to pass out, the weight on him lifted and he could take a deep breath. 

The air in his lungs felt heavenly, the faint taste of sweat and disinfectant suddenly delightful as he heaved lung-fulls of it. A grating scream rang out behind him and he snapped around, his dizziness making the world spin around him. Trent, his assumed assailant, knelt on the floor cradling his hand. His fingers looked funny, some of them crooked. Then Caleb saw the man's pinky finger, pretty much dangling backwards, and he snapped his attention up to the lithe man grinning next to him, obviously admiring his own work. The colourful man, who Caleb had recently learned was called Mollymauk, gave a short laugh, his lips twisting into a feral snarl as he bent at the waist and pulled Trents face up to his. All colour had drained out of Trents face as he cradled his mangled hand to his chest and he still ignored it in favour of meeting Mollymauk’s furious face. 

Molly seemed to be seething with a quiet anger, his features twisted into a animalistic visage of impending doom. Caleb couldn’t look away. The thick crowd seemed to be slowly dispersing around them but the sound of Mollymauk’s next words carried as though echoing in an empty room. 

“We’ve discussed this, Trent. You touch the new meat and I break you, piece by piece.”

Trent nodded hysterically, a vein throbbing in his forehead. Caleb watched Mollymauk through the interaction, noting his facial tics and the ridgid way in which he held himself. The man was pure power and contained fury. It dried Caleb’s throat out just to look at him. 

Guards rushed through the rest of the crowd in a wave and Caleb was pulled to his feet by the newest recruit before himself. Caleb was then left to teeter on unstable legs as the guards swept out and began to corral the inmates. The original fight had apparently been incredibly short and yet the aftermath had a couple of the prisoners sent to the medical bay, Trent among them. The man was still clutching his mangled hand to his chest and he seemed to be focusing on staying conscious. 

It would probably be better for him if he let himself pass out, Caleb thought to himself as he watched Trent swallow waves of nausea down. Despite the fact that the man had obviously used the riot to try and cover his attack Caleb nevertheless felt sympathy for the man. 

A hand on his shoulder started him out of his contemplation and he turned to find Fjord regarding the purple smudges on his neck. A jerk of his head preempted his steering hand as he led Caleb out of the common area and into the guards Medical Bay. 

The rest of his shift was taken up by x-rays and physical examinations, which he left feeling more violated than he did before going into them. The medical officer had wanted to make sure that he had not been sexually assaulted, and despite Caleb’s insistence that he hadn’t, the officer had run a full rape kit on him anyway. 

By the time he was home the only thing he wanted to do was take a thorough shower and collapse face first into his bed. Nott seemed to sense his discomfort because by the time he stepped out of his lengthy shower and retreated to the comfort of his room there was a tray placed carefully on a stack of books. There was a bowl of steaming soup, a hunk of bread and an aromatic cup of steaming tea arranged around a small bunch of flowers that Nott had obviously picked during the day. They looked incredibly fresh and Caleb brought them to his nose before picking up the tray and setting it on his towel covered lap. He was still dripping, his hair plastered to his head, but his stomach gave a deep growl at the smell of food and he couldn’t deny it.

The soup was delicious, decidedly homemade, and affection flooded his chest as he thought of Nott cooking for him after seeing his sour mood. She really did look after him beyond what he deserved. She was his only family and he loved her with all of his heart. 

After the food, lethargy descended on him like a stifling fog, obscuring his thought of anything but sleep. His bed felt incredibly comfortable beneath him and the temptation was too much to resist. Water soaked into his pillow as he dropped his head onto it. He found he didn’t care about a damp pillow as he felt the wave of drowsiness pull him under. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that the gaps between chapters is so large, I lost my mojo for a while.

It hadn’t taken long for Caleb to put two and two together and realise that Mollymauk was probably the reason things had been so smooth at work. The interaction between Molly and Trent the day before had implied that Molly had issued a prior warning and that he wasn’t happy at having to repeat himself. The pure fury on his beautifully sculpted face had sent shivers down Caleb's spine.

His realisation made it incredibly difficult to walk into work the next day. It took all of ten minutes for his fingernails to be bitten down to the bed and his hair to be a chaotic mess. Even as he was clocking in all he could think of was how much he wanted to go home.

It didn’t really help matters when he was instantly assigned to guarding the prisoners during their yard time. They had an entire hour after breakfast in which to work off their excess energy. Some prisoners participated in a game of basketball, some formed groups to play card games and every now and then a prisoner would run laps of the yard. Mollymauk occasionally joined in with these activities, but his most frequent past time seemed to be yoga.

Caleb spent those mornings trying his hardest to ignore the sly grins the man sent his way as he twisted and stretched his body into intriguingly sensual shapes. He watched the rest of the inmates, body tense and trembling as he rigidly ignored Mollymauk’s low groans and relieved sighs. It was always a strenuous hour for him and he was incredibly happy when it was over.

He’d been spending so much time pointedly ignoring Mollymauk that he hadn’t noticed that the man had approached him. The movement out of the corner of his eye made him twitch in that direction before he registered the bare chest and flowery tattoos, the barely there smirk. His heart stuttered in his chest.

“What is it you want, Mollymauk?” Caleb asked, flicking his eyes away quickly as he stood straight. _You are a guard, present yourself like one_. A few curious stares from the inmates met his and he winced internally as Molly stepped closer, the shadow of his body curling around Caleb’s smaller frame.

“I wanted to see how you were, after everything that happened yesterday,” Molly replied nonchalantly, his long fingers marking a sweeping curl in the air with his words. Mollymauk carried himself with a graceful ease that spoke of confidence, and to Caleb, of _danger_. He had seen firsthand that this man was not one you wanted to cross. “I could see the bruises around your neck from the other side of the yard, Darling,” He continued and Caleb had to stop himself from bringing a self-conscious hand up to his throat.

“That’s Sir to you, Inmate,” Caleb replied, turning hard eyes on the man before him. He had to maintain his composure. Knowing that this man had already taken an unhealthy interest in him was scary enough, without seeing the man trying to get closer to him, trying to show him _affection_. A small twitch around sharp eyes was all the warning Caleb got before he was crowded against the wall, the taller man looming over him. His breath stuttered in his chest and he found himself shrinking back, wide blue eyes locked with narrowed black.

“You listen to me, _Sir_ , if it weren’t for me you would be broken, do you hear me? _Broken_. So you better show me some damn respect,” Mollymauk snarled down at him and Caleb found himself nodding helplessly. What else could he do? It wasn’t like anyone here was going to help him. “Good boy,” Mollymauk murmured, something flashing in his eyes before he leaned back, the sun striking Caleb’s shivering body again, “Now go get something to cover your neck, I don’t like seeing those marks on you.”

Without a glance back Caleb jogged towards the yard exit, meeting another guard there. A knowing look was all he got before the guard waved him inside and took over for him, a small chuckle sounding behind him as he ran inside. He didn’t care what the other guard thought of him, everyone here was intimidated by Mollymauk. The man had so many guards in his pocket that he practically ran the place.

He would have to grab some bandages from the medical wing before he went back out there, not wanting to face Mollymauk’s fierce and possessive anger again. His first stop was a restroom where he splashed a handful of cold water over his face, the skin feeling overly warm with the touch of shame and abashed arousal heating his blood. He shouldn’t have to deal with this! This job was supposed to be his break in life, a way for him to redeem himself from the crimes of his youth and give him the stepping stone he needed to better his and Notts life. But he always attracted the wrong attention and this time he had no idea how he was going to shake it. Mollymauk was powerful, dangerous and intelligent. He had everyone here in his pocket and anyone that stepped out of their roles were quickly reprimanded.

What could he do? He knew there was nothing he could do, knew any struggle would only bring the force of Mollymauk’s anger. A shiver travelled down his spine as Mollymauk’s furious words echoed inside him. _Good boy_. Like he was some kind of pet, something to keep on a leash and parade around. He was a source of entertainment. It wasn’t like the felon actually felt anything for him besides possession.

The rest of his shift passed in a blur. He couldn’t blame himself for his mind being elsewhere as he finished paperwork and herded groups of inmates into their cells. The only thing that caught his attention the whole evening was the flash of purple he occasionally caught in his peripheral vision. It made his stomach clench and his face flush as he forced himself to turn from it.

He knew the man was watching him, could feel the prickle of awareness, the feel of eyes on him. He was being stalked like prey and he couldn’t do a thing about it other than avoid looking at him.

That night he didn’t get much sleep. The flash of purple behind his eyelids, the curl of wicked lips and bloom of crawling flowers kept him from closing his eyes. He could feel heat gathering in the pit of his stomach, a lingering, gnawing hunger that stoked when he closed his eyes.

He couldn’t, _wouldn’t_ , take himself in hand for this. He refused to give Mollymauk that power, even if the man couldn’t see him. He would _know_ the instant Caleb looked at him.

He refused to give Mollymauk any more ammunition against him.

**Author's Note:**

> Lemme know what you think! I run on validation <3


End file.
